Inexplicably Extraordinary
by Diluted Thoughts
Summary: There is only one question that she has been unable to answer: why did he help her? :: There is only one question that he has been unable to answer — until now, that is. Kaiba/Ishizu. Vague Trustshipping.
1. Inexplicable

Throughout her life, she had been able to relate those things that were deemed "unfathomable" to destiny. She had always had the mindset that destiny would reveal what it wanted to eventually, and that time had no reason to be rushed. Fate would unroll itself in due course. This principle had always put her mind at ease.

Until _now_, at least.

And so with little surprise did Ishizu Ishtar find herself knocking at the door of the acclaimed "Ice Prince," who—though needless to say—had been given the title for good reason.

"Come in."

She hadn't been expecting a warm welcome, but this was a stretch—even for him. Then again, Ishizu was sure that the young CEO wasn't exactly pleased with the fact he was being whisked away to the burial site of his three thousand-year-old rival…

…not to overlook the fact that they were traveling via ship, while he was probably accustomed to something more _luxurious_.

She gripped the door handle and opened it in with a _click_. The room looked completely unused, for lack of a better word. In fact, the only changes she noticed were a silver laptop, briefcase and trench coat resting next to a wooden table.

Ishizu wryly wondered if silver happened to be his favorite color.

Her eyes quickly skimmed the rest of the apparent décor before falling onto the fair-skinned individual she had been looking for. Her "gracious host" sat in an arm chair, apparently too enthralled in to spare her a second glance.

She waited patiently, hands folded in front of her.

Seconds turned into minutes when he finally decided to acknowledge her presence, either out of courtesy or annoyance; she chose the latter.

"Ishizu, come to fill my head with more nonsense about how 'fate' led me here, and that by choosing to come, I have chosen to accept my 'inevitable destiny'?" he asked offhandedly, marking his page.

Her eyes narrowed at his blatant display of mockery. He glanced at her, a smirk lining his lips.

"No, actually. I am in no mood to quarrel with you about something you seem to find absolutely useless. I suppose that is why your responses are usually so cliché."

His smirk turned into a scowl as he glared at her.

This was enough. At this rate, she would never be able to ask him the question that had been plaguing her mind ever since she had returned to Egypt—a question whose answered seemed to be utterly _inexplicable_.

"Kaiba Seto, why did you help me?"

The question left her lips before she even had the chance to process it. Ishizu saw his brows furrow together, and then rise lightly as he asked,

"Help you with what?"

"My brother…" Ishizu said softly, "Had you not given the Pharaoh that card before his duel with my brother's darker half…there is no way that he could have won."

Kaiba laughed contemptuously.

"I gave Yuugi that card to see if he was clever enough to play it correctly. He did and won, which happened to save your brother. I played no direct hand in saving him."

"But you did so, Kaiba Seto, indirectly. Without that card, the Pharaoh would surely have lost. Then my brother would be…" she trailed off, her hand instinctively brushing against her bare neck.

"Listen to me, Ishizu."

She looked up to see that he was standing a few feet away from her, arms folded across his chest. When he spoke, his tone was low.

"I agree, perhaps giving that card to Yuugi allowed him to save your brother from his 'darker half,' as you call it. However, that is _all_ that I did. Should you be thanking anyone, thank Yuugi."

Ishizu held his piercing gaze firmly. "I did not come to thank you. I came to ask _why_ you decided to help me." She cut him off before he had a chance to speak.

"And you did help me, Kaiba Seto, whether it was intentional or not. Do not deny it."

His shoulders slackened and his features hardened. It was obvious to see that he wasn't used to agreeing with others so easily—especially when it concerned something he did obliquely.

"Whatever the case…" Kaiba began, running his fingers through his dark hair, "your brother is fine now. Isn't that what truly matters?"

Ishizu nodded, slowly.

But…

"But you have still failed to answer my question. Why did you give the Pharaoh the card he needed in order to win the duel?"

Kaiba looked at her through a fringe of his hair. Whether it was because he was wearing all black, or because his patience was on the edge of breaking, he looked even paler than usual.

"…Yuugi's chances of winning were around three percent." His voice was strained, as if what control he had left was about to shatter.

"I decided to make it a twenty percent duel to see if he could face the odds and win, and he did."

Ishizu straightened, looking at him sharply. "You mean to tell me that the only reason you gave him the card was to see if your suspicions proved true?" Her voice was calm despite her rising anger.

So it had all been a ploy to see if the Pharaoh had enough skill to win against the odds stacked against him? That was all? He hadn't done it to help anyone, but only to see if his assumption was verified?

Kaiba seemed to notice the rage in her eyes, because he said, after a moment of deliberation, "No, Ishizu. That isn't why, not entirely… It's not…" He closed his eyes, evidently unused to and frustrated by this lack of articulation.

"Then why?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You really want to know?"

"I do."

Then everything seemed to happen at once.

With a blink of an eye, it appeared, Kaiba was in front of her. His right arm was extended to the wall behind her, and he was so unnervingly close that every breath she took caught the scent of his cologne.

She remained composed in spite of his sudden nearness.

"I believe I asked for an answer, and not this display of how close one can get to another without striking a nerve."

"Have I struck a nerve yet, Ishizu?" he asked, voice barely audible.

Kaiba didn't wait for her answer, and instead leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Ishizu pulled back immediately, only to be stopped when he grabbed her wrist—not forcefully, but securely enough that she couldn't move away from him.

"I did it for _you_."

Ishizu searched his face for some sign of ridicule. She only found complete sincerity—along with something else in his eyes that she wouldn't admit to herself. With her gaze directed to the floor, Ishizu began to pull away from him. The grip on her wrist loosened instantly.

Without a word, Ishizu moved to the door. She was too overcome to say anything. This was the second time he'd left her utterly speechless.

When she reached the door, Ishizu cast a glance at him over her shoulder. He had returned to his arm chair and was reading, as if nothing had happened.

"I thank you then, Kaiba Seto," she whispered softly, managing to find her voice for at least this small word of gratitude.

As she shut the door behind her, Ishizu heard him say, albeit quietly:

"You're welcome."

* * *

So. I felt like it was time for a brief change. What with all this Logicshipping-ness I've been writing, it was nice writing a vague Trustshipping fiction.

Bwa-HA!


	2. Extraordinary

_By popular demand, this is now a two-shot! Mwahaha. _

To say that he was short-tempered was like saying that Christmas fell in December. It was just that obvious. Truth be told, it wasn't like he necessarily wanted to have a short temper—he just naturally had one. And, with that in mind, it wasn't like he could really be blamed for everything that happened on behalf of his temper. It just happened.

That sounded utterly absurd. Even to him.

With a flourish of his hand, Kaiba Seto dropped his silver-toned trench coat next to a plain wooden table in his revoltingly plain little room. A sigh left him as he collapsed onto an armchair, stretching out his legs before crossing them in an act of boredom, disgust and—above all else—impatience.

He hadn't been expecting some grand room with silken bedcovers and an exquisitely carved oaken closet, complete with a delicate touch of ornamental décor that brought out the sheer splendor of the finely painted walls…

…but this was ridiculous.

Kaiba idly thought of the time when his little brother had told him to "spruce up the room some." As far as he was concerned, he and decorating didn't mix— he just stayed there.

At present, he was in some obsolete room in an even more obsolete ship, traveling to some three thousand-year-old burial site where the "Pharaoh" could make his last rites.

And people asked why he was being ill-tempered. The ingrates.

Unable to stand the thought of looking around the room for another second, Kaiba picked up the book he had absently left on the coffee table in front of him. He leafed through the pages of before getting to where he had left off.

He'd barely started reading when he heard a knock. Suppressing a wince, Kaiba hoped that whoever was at the door would just give up the knocking and go away.

They didn't.

Kaiba cleared his throat quietly.

"Come in."

Part of him wished that his "beloved visitor" didn't hear what he had said. He'd made his voice hoarse and almost inaudible on purpose. His eyes flicked over to where the doorknob began turning.

Apparently, they had heard.

Kaiba turned his attention back to his book. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of beige, gold and black. He realized the figure instantly. Why did it have to be her, of all people? Getting rid of her wouldn't be easy. But it didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Onto Plan B… Maybe if he didn't greet her for a few minutes, she would leave.

He waited, and after rereading the same sentence about twelve times, finally relented in annoyance.

As Kaiba marked his page, he said, nonchalantly, "Ishizu, come to fill my head with more nonsense about how 'fate' led me here, and that by choosing to come, I have chosen to accept my 'inevitable destiny'?"

He met her narrowed gaze with a triumphant smirk.

"No, actually. I am in no mood to quarrel with you about something you seem to find absolutely useless. I suppose that is why your responses are usually so cliché," she parried calmly.

Kaiba glared at her, scowling.

He hated how she was able to counter his remarks so smoothly. She and she alone had always been able to leave him speechless, so that he had to resort to glaring in order to suffice for his abrupt silence.

"Kaiba Seto, why did you help me?"

Ishizu seemed almost as stunned at the question as he was. His brows furrowed. Help her? Help her with what?

"Help you with what?" he asked, brows now lightly raised.

"My brother… Had you not given the Pharaoh that card before his duel with my brother's darker half…there is no way that he could have won."

Kaiba laughed scornfully despite the softness he heard in her voice.

"I gave Yuugi that card to see if he was clever enough to play it correctly," Kaiba explained matter-of-factly, "He did and won, which happened to save your brother. I played no direct hand in saving him."

"But you did so, Kaiba Seto, indirectly." Really now? "Without that card, the Pharaoh would surely have lost. Then my brother would be…"

Ishizu cut herself off midway, her hand going to her bare neck almost instinctively.

Kaiba stared at her expressionlessly. How had he ever met a woman who was so foolish, yet equally intelligent at the same time?

She was extraordinary.

Despite how calm and collected she appeared to be on the outside, inside she was so fragile. Kaiba thoughtfully wondered if she would break if he touched her, though he deemed the idea ludicrous almost immediately.

No, she wasn't fragile. He took it back, silently chastising himself for even thinking that she was weak. Instead she was like…

…like the ocean, the idea reaffirmed by the color of her eyes. On the surface she looked to be placid and tranquil, but underneath she was brewing with a turmoil of doubt, concern and worry.

And—for some reason that even eluded him—he wanted to help her.

It struck him. The reason why he had given Yuugi the card.

It was for…

Bracing himself, Kaiba stood and took a few steps towards her. He stopped when he was only a few feet away and crossed his arms over his chest. Ishizu didn't turn to look at him, didn't even give him a glance. She still seemed lost in her own reverie.

Kaiba spoke, his voice low.

"Listen to me, Ishizu."

"I agree, perhaps giving that card to Yuugi allowed him to save your brother from his 'darker half,' as you call it. However, that is all that I did. Should you be thanking anyone, thank Yuugi."

It sounded like a reasonable enough answer to him. Ishizu, evidently, didn't think it was enough, for she said: "I did not come to thank you. I came to ask why you decided to help me."

He started to speak, but she cut him off. "And you did help me, Kaiba Seto, whether it was intentional or not. Do not deny it."

Kaiba's jaw set. His shoulders lost their former tension and slackened some while his face stiffened. Suppressing the urge to curse, he instead ran his fingers through his hair and said,

"Whatever the case, your brother is fine now. Isn't that what truly matters?"

She nodded. He felt relieved—

"But you have still failed to answer my question. Why did you give the Pharaoh the card he needed in order to win the duel?"

—but that relief, alas, was short-lived.

Kaiba gazed at her through a wisp of his dark brown hair. His patience—or what was left of it—was slowly winding down. He took a breath to calm down, noting halfheartedly how amazingly persistent she was.

"…Yuugi's chances of winning were around three percent," he said in a strained voice, "I decided to make it a twenty percent duel to see if he could face the odds and win, and he did."

He saw her straighten, saw the sharp look she gave him.

"You mean to tell me that the only reason you gave him the card was to see if your suspicions proved true?"

Kaiba was alarmed by the infuriation hidden deep within her composed frontage. It was so true. She and the ocean were practically synonymous.

But seeing her like this, seeing her this enraged—and at him, no less. He felt so…

"No, Ishizu. That isn't why, not entirely… It's not…"

This time he trailed off. He closed his eyes, exasperated by his own incoherency.

"Then why?"

His eyes locked with hers.

"You really want to know?"

"I do."

Three long strides took him to her side. By the time Ishizu seemed to notice how close he actually was, he already had his arm outstretched to the wall behind her.

Her face was as cool as ever, but her eyes betrayed her serenity.

"I believe I asked for an answer, and not this display of how close one can get to another without striking a nerve."

Kaiba admired her audacity.

"Have I struck a nerve yet, Ishizu?" he asked her softly.

Whether she was going to answer or not, it didn't matter. At that instant, he inclined his head forward and brushed his lips with hers. Ishizu's immediate reaction, as he had anticipated, was that she began to pull back. He caught her tanned wrist in a secure grip.

"I did it for you."

Kaiba met her gaze and allowed her to search his face. If she was looking for some sign of contempt or mockery, he was confident she wouldn't find anything—anything, that is, except for sincerity. Ishizu had wanted an answer, after all, and that was his answer: he had done it for her.

It seemed as if she had come to this conclusion, too, because she lowered her gaze to the floor and began to move away from him in silence. He released her wrist, turned back around and returned to his armchair.

Just as he had thought: she wouldn't break at his touch. She was far too resilient.

Kaiba flipped open his book once more and began reading. Unlike before, this time he was actually able to focus.

"I thank you then, Kaiba Seto."

Ishizu's voice was soft, as soft as ever. He smiled a little to himself as he watched her departing figure, and said, just as quietly,

"You're welcome."


End file.
